Wilbur has just learned that Zuckerman is planning to have him for Christmas dinner, and he's a little distraught. Charlotte, no-nonsense spider that she is, can't stand Wilbur's dramatics. She promises to save his life and orders him to stop behaving like a baby.
It's difficult not to behave like a baby when you receive news like someone is planning to turn you into ham and bacon. When I first heard I was being "displaced" from my job, I cried like a pregnant woman watching Terms of Endearment. I understand the impulse to wallow and carry on.
I have two prayer intentions this evening. One for my sister and one for my coworker's wife.
First, my sister, who works for the same healthcare organization that recently displaced me, found out last week that she is being displaced, as well. She's a lot of things at the moment. Panicked. Sad. Angry. Worried. Been there. Done that. Still doing it, as a matter of fact. To make a long story short, my sister needs some prayer.
Second, one of my coworkers was in a terrible car accident this weekend. He was banged up, but his wife suffered some fractured vertebrae and ribs. She's in rough shape, facing months of rehabilitation. She deserves to cry like a baby, if she wants to. To make another long story short, my coworker's wife needs some prayer, too.
I'm not going to be Charlotte. I don't care if my sister or coworker's wife want to indulge in hysterics. It's understandable. Losing a job, breaking a back--these are things that no words in a spider's web are going to cure.
So please, lift up these people in your thoughts. Say something to God for them.
While you're at it, put in a good word for Saint Marty, too. He feels a little hysterical.
|Sometimes, this is all you can do|